


Flash

by Merricup



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bisexual Luka Couffaine, Gay Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, High School, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, M/M, Party, Teenage Drama, well he doesn't know it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merricup/pseuds/Merricup
Summary: Party in high school. Adrien is with Marinette; but under the strobes, it is two other blue eyes that capsize his heart.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Kagami Tsurugi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Flash

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Flash](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21705739) by [Merricup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merricup/pseuds/Merricup). 



> Hey! So this one shot is inspired by the series "SKAM", especially the french version (there is a Lucas in it, coincidence? I think not-)  
> I hope you'll enjoy it!

Lights dance in the foyer of the school.

A place of relaxation in the teaching building that has become a place of decline or an improvised nightclub. 

The students appropriate the school establishment to party there for an evening. They all infiltrated the place for an evening organized on the theme of espionage – alcohol, music and strobes, what can go wrong?

All his friends are there, all his class is there, and Marinette is there too.

She's pretty, Marinette. With her candid smile under the spotlight, she gently takes his hand, shouts something over the _boom-boom_ of the speakers, but he doesn't understand what she is saying.

It seems that Adrien always had a crush on her, that he only realized it this year because he was a finished idiot, blind moreover.

At least, that's what his friends certified to him. In response, he found nothing better than shrugging – completely passive.

In any case, he may still be a finished idiot. It is even certain that it has not changed.

Yes, she is pretty Marinette, with her loose hair, her rosy cheekbones, her tank top and her skirt. He cannot deny it.

He seems to be trying to convince himself, his heart is turned upside down.

He digs his head, he drives his idea in his skull like he would drive a nail into a board. He silences his brain, gets bogged down in his own illusions...

...he needs a drink.

Marinette seems to read his mind, she lets go of his hand and turns to him, handing him a beer out of nowhere. She smiles, flirtatious and elegant, strands of hair rebelling before her eyes. So he grabs the drink, mimes a 'thank you' with his lips, without any real emotion in his eyes; without even realize it.

And then, in a gesture that he does not understand himself, he comes to wedge one of the girl's strands behind her ear, gently - and he seems to examine his face in the smallest detail, as curious about an element that he just noticed.

Freckles on her nose. Her blue eyes, bright in the half-light of the room. Her pink lips, which never stop smiling.

She seems to appreciate his gaze on her, since he sees her blushing – or maybe it is only the red spot that has just passed over her face.

However, the alarm immediately sounds in his head.

Suddenly becoming aware of his gesture, he draws back his hand and sketches an embarrassed smile, nonchalantly. A smile too stealthy, too brief, too fast.

He prays so Marinette would not make any comments – and his prayer is heard, since the girl remains silent, although she still seems delighted.

"Wanna dance?" she said in his ear to be sure to be heard.

He seems to avoid the question by drinking three or four sips of beer in a row.

He doesn't want to dance, Adrien. He doesn't want to have fun, he doesn't even want to be here. He doesn't care, but it was Nino and the other guys who brought him here. 'You'll see, it's going to be the party of the century!' they told him.

Until then, he doesn't really see what they mean by 'party of the century'. He lived dozens of parties since he entered in highschool, and without being a _party pooper_ , this one doesn't have anything exceptional, except that it is done in the school, in the middle of the night.

Risk taking may be funny although it exasperates him more than anything else.

Adrien has already too much in his head to have fun. Too many unanswered questions, too many problems, too many worries, too much anxiety, all padded in one and same state.

And that eats it from the inside; and he needs more beers to try to forget about it, for this night only. It's not too much in demand, is it?

"Adrien?"

Suddenly she looks anxious, Marinette. He only picks up now that he hasn't answered her, deep in thought. So he comes back to reality as best he can, and now he just nods to reassure her, to not attract suspicion; it doesn't take more for the Eurasian smile to reappear.

She draws him with her to the dance floor and he follows her without flinching, placing his half empty can on a table nearby.

Their hands bind again, their fingers intertwine and their bodies begin to move in rhythm with the music.

Marinette has fun, it shows. Adrien does his best to save the image; he moves his shoulders, his arms that follow the movements of the girl who leads the dance in the crowd of euphoric students.

He takes a circular look, at least to locate his friends, to know what they are doing, to check if they are more in the mood than him – certainly.

And then, a flash. The strobe turns on, turns off,  
the lights that flicker,  
a sudden appearance, and Adrien is blinded.

He's there. He came.

His throat ties, his jaw tightens, his pulse accelerates. He can't look away from him, from his piercing gaze, from his captivating smile – he can't decide if he's happy to see him again or if his presence makes him want to go home even more.

Because he doesn't see him, _Luka_.

And he's not alone, Luka. He is with his girlfriend, Adrien doesn't know her name, but he doesn't care about her first name anyway, he doesn't care about her at all.

It is a warm hand sliding on his neck which brings him back to reality, an electric shock which makes him jump. He unscrews his head, plants his gaze in Marinette's eyes who is far too close, suddenly.

He has no time to react that her lips are already kissing his, and he feels her fingers run over his jaw and his neck – the lights dance and twirl and Adrien's head is spinning.

He closes his eyes, trying to appreciate the girl's fiery kiss, her proximity, the warmth of her body against his.

Then he opens his eyelids, and the flash again. He continues to kiss Marinette, he continues to sigh under the loving caresses of the Eurasian, he continues to shiver when his hands come to play with his blond hair.

But his gaze sticks to someone else's gaze, and it's the second flash.

He is no longer blinded Adrien, or maybe he is; but it’s no longer the spot that blinds him. White flashes follow one another, giving him the impression that the people around him are moving strangely, like animated images that lead him to believe that he is no longer in the same world.

It's Luka, who catches his eye like a magnet. It's Luka, still him, just him, who is kissing his girlfriend too.

Adrien finds this ridiculous to the point that he is ready to stop everything, push Marinette away, get out of here...

But suddenly, his gaze meets his. Third flash.

The blue that emerges is turquoise, mesmerizing, and seizes him to the smallest bit of his soul.

And his heart misses a beat.

They do not let go of the gaze, like a bond which forces them to look themselves in the eye, like an invisible force making them forget the tenderness of the feminine gestures which are graciously offered to them.

His breath stops and his lungs cry out in pain, his heart throbs violently against his rib cage. He is nothing more than a disjointed puppet under the enigmatic eyes of Luka.

He would like to be in the place of his girlfriend. He would like it to be Luka instead of Marinette.

It's horrible, it certainly is – but he can no longer remove this thought from his head, like a gangrene that eats his reason, a parasite that nibbles his lucidity.  
How did he get in this situation?

Finally, the ultimate flash. And the eye contact breaks,  
a bit like his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi (again) everyone!  
> New translation here, because the world needs more Lukadrien I guess,,,,  
> So, as usual, I'm sorry if you saw any mistake in the text ;;;  
> I look forward to your returns/corrections, thank you so much <3


End file.
